<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>it's hard to be at a party (when i feel like an open wound) by letheanlilith</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938693">it's hard to be at a party (when i feel like an open wound)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/letheanlilith/pseuds/letheanlilith'>letheanlilith</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Caring Yuri, Confused Yuuri, Gen, Grand Prix Final Banquet, JJ is mentioned like once i think, M/M, angsty yuuri, mentions of champagne and red wine, yuri is also lowkey simping for otabek, yuri is trying his best, yuri plisetsky cares but in his own special way, yuuri and victor needed to talk like yesterday, yuuri is also veery drunk, yuuri is confused and tired</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:34:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938693</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/letheanlilith/pseuds/letheanlilith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Katsuki Yuuri was not Victor Nikiforov, and he never could be. Yuri Plisetsky took the bait - and sat next to Yuuri, both dangling their long legs out of the confines of the little balcony, into the dark Barcelona sky.</p><p>or the one where yuuri is very drunk, and yuri is trying his best.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri &amp; Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it's hard to be at a party (when i feel like an open wound)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Katsuki Yuuri was many things: well, first and foremost he was a top figure skater certified by the Japan Skating Federation, he won <em>the</em> silver medal (!!!) at <em>the</em> Grand Prix Final (!!!), he was 173 centimetres, and as of ten minutes ago, he was very, <em>veery</em> drunk. Drunk off of champagne, at the banquet, again.</p><p>This time, however, it wasn't because he was socially awkward and had nothing else to do or no one to talk to. No, that was last year, before <em>the</em> Victor Nikiforov stood in his family's onsen, butt naked, and told him he was going to be his coach from then on. It was because that stupid ring kept catching the light, and Victor kept saying that they were engaged, and people kept congratulating them, and Phichit kept taking photos and- </p><p>It was all simply <em>too much</em>. There were a lot of unspoken things and <em>he hated that</em>. He needed answers, <em>straight-to-the-point</em> answers and he needed them <strong>now</strong>. But Victor did not want to give those to him. So, he drank. He drank until he started swaying, his tie and shirt became too restrictive, the air inside the <em>gorgeous</em> ballroom became <em>too much</em>. Yet he still drank - wine, this time around. Champagne was <strong>not</strong> working; he <em>still</em> heard Victor telling people the story of their supposed engagement, he <em>still</em> caught the way his stupid, golden ring shone, he still heard Chris talking about his sexual prowess or whatever the <em>fuck</em> Chris talked about and the worst of all, he could <em>still</em> think.</p><p>Think about the day Victor came, the way he felt when he first hugged Yuuri, the day he - the day Victor kissed him <em>and they didn't talk about it.</em> They never did. They <strong>never</strong> talked about their feelings, their words or actions; never about the kiss, the tie pull, the obviously-not-platonic hugs, the engagement thing, the- the "I wish you'd never retire."</p><p>He did <em><strong>not</strong></em> want to think. He wanted to be like Victor, confident in whatever the <em>fuck</em> he was doing, able to read the other person like a <em>billboard</em> written in the largest punto. But Katsuki Yuuri was not Victor Nikiforov, and he never could be. He was an anxious, quiet mess of a "more pork cutlet bowl than human" and he <em>could not do this.</em> </p><p>So when he saw Victor looking around for <em>him</em>, of all people (which, he still couldn't believe, to be quite honest), Yuuri did what he knew best - <em>he ran.</em></p><hr/><p>Yuri Plisetsky was many things but openly loving or caring? That he was not. He was more of a "If I punch you that means I care about you." or "Degrading nicknames are the way I show affection." type of person. He was not fond of <em>the other Yuri, Otabek</em>. <em>Yes, I really don't care about him can you just shut the fu-</em></p><p>Ahem, anyways. He definitely was <strong><em>not</em></strong> fond of <em>Pork Cutlet Bowl</em>. He just happened to walk behind him, <em>at a reasonable distance</em>, when he saw the older man bolt out of the ballroom with a full bottle of red wine. He was<em><strong> not</strong> </em>worried. Nope. He happened to be going that way too, that's all! </p><p>So, Yuri "I don't care about anyone besides my grandfather and my boyf- <em>best friend</em> Otabek" Plisetsky followed the obviously very drunk Yuuri through the long hallways into the- the balcony? <em>This idiot better not jump. </em></p><p>Yuuri stopped before the sliding doors and laid his forehead onto -Yuri assumed- the cold surface. He was shocked to hear the older man address him <em>directly</em>.</p><p>"Yuri, can you leave me alone, <em>please</em>?"</p><p>He was more shocked to hear the reply that came out of his mouth <em>waay</em> too quickly for his liking: "No."</p><p>"Well," Yuuri said with a small laugh (that to be frank, did not sound genuine at all), slid the balcony door open and turned towards the teen with tears in his eyes, "then feel free to be my guest."</p><p>Yuri, for the life of him, could not utter a single rebuttal. He had seen the pig cry before - he was pretty sure everyone and their mother had seen it too yet this was <em>weird, </em>different somehow. So he took the bait and sat next to the<em> obviously-not-fine</em> and <em>obviously-not-sober </em>Yuuri, both dangling their long legs out of the confines of the little balcony, into the dark Barcelona sky.</p><hr/><p><em>Adapt, improvise, overcome.</em> That's all he needed to do. If you would have told him, "<em>Yo Katsuki, Plisetsky will sit down next to you and not insult you." </em> he would not have believed them one bit. He honestly had thought Phitchit, maybe Sala, would be the one to keep an eye on him, not <em>the Ice Tiger of Russia</em>. Still, Yuuri wasn't complaining. It was nice to know that the teen cared about him, and that he would not force him to talk. </p><p>He just needed to get used to the feel of the tiny teen bumping his shoulders into him (which, in Yuri's language meant, "Hey loser, I'm here."), think of a lie that would satisfy the <em>Russian Fairy</em>, and then he could drown himself in the bottle of red wine he snuck out of the banquet. It was a perfect plan! Kind of.</p><p>You see, Katsuki Yuuri hadn't thought of the possibility that the<em> Russian Punk </em>cared about him more than he let on, and was willing to sit next to him for <em>half an hour</em> without uttering a single word. He also hadn't thought of the inevitability of him just downing the contents of the dark green bottle as his thoughts spiralled.</p><p>The ring still shone, this time under the moonlight rather than the large chandelier in the ballroom, his ears could still pick up "Yuuri", "engaged" and "not retiring!", he could also hear his breathing picking up and his eyes losing sight. He wanted to <em>just not think for once!</em></p><p>"Drowning yourself in expensive alcohol won't help with that, Yuuri." Oh, did he say that out loud?</p><p>"Yes, you did."</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>"Look, cutlet bowl," Yuuri snorted at that, "I don't know what's going on through your head, but it looks like you need to talk to someone."</p><p>"I'm just-" Yuri sighed, he was <em>so</em> not the person to talk to, "so confused, tired and- I needed some air. Feel free to go back, by the way, I'll be fine."</p><p>He was giving him an out. Yuri could go back in, sneakily stare at Otabek's lips when he was busy staring daggers at all those who dared come near them (all those meant JJ and Victor, they were honestly too dumb for their own good) but what kind of a friend would that make him?</p><p>"No, I'm good. Thanks for the offer, though."</p><p><em>Yuuri won't remember any of this.</em> He reminded himself. <em>He's way too out of it.</em></p><p>Yet, when the older man looked at him as if he'd recited the loveliest of stanzas ever written, as if he were the one to hang the moon and the stars, Yuri couldn't help but <em>hope</em> that he <em>would</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i finished yoi a few hours ago and am obsessed! feel free to tell me how ooc these gays are i literally have no clue how to write them oop-<br/>btw i totally set out to write a "yuuri and victor talk and all is well &lt;3" fic but it turned into a "yuuri is leaving the banquet hall confused and drunk and yuri plisetsky is worried and trying his best" fic lol <br/>[it's 1.10 am so i might not be making any sense, sorry!] [nonetheless i hope you enjoy this mess of a fic, please tell me how i did! 💖]</p><p>bonus scene:<br/>A sudden, deep voice startled the tipsy Russian. "Nikiforov."<br/>"Heeey~ Why are you carrying Koneko-chan, Otabek?" Victor was confused, and wobbly. Maybe he was more than tipsy, hmm.<br/>Rather than answering the older man, Otabek shook his head (obviously disapproving whatever Victor did wrong), and gestured to the balcony at the end of the hallway with his head, "Maybe you should carry yours, too. I doubt they will wake up any time soon."<br/>Yuri's muffled whine interrupted whatever Victor was about to say: "Bekaa~ I'm cold." He nestled further into the neck of the Kazakh man, causing him to crack a rare, small smile. <br/>"We'll be under the covers in no time, Yurachka." he turned to the now-sobering-up Victor, "Good night, Nikiforov."<br/>Victor called to them as he began walking towards his pupil/friend/fiancé "Good night Otabek, good night koneko-chan!"</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>